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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25067110">Their Love and the World</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsyweaver/pseuds/gypsyweaver'>gypsyweaver</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Tale of Crowns and Coins [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub cameo, Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Disney World &amp; Disneyland, Domestic Fluff, First Time, Fluff, Gabriel cameo, Ineffable Bureaucracy, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Making an Effort (Good Omens), Mentioned Anathema, Mentioned Newton Pulsifer, Oral Sex, Other, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Service Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Smut, Vacation, Vaginal Sex, Warlock Cameo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:03:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25067110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsyweaver/pseuds/gypsyweaver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Since they made that toast at the Ritz, Aziraphale and Crowley have done some (cautious) sightseeing. The world is full of new things to see, new things to eat, and new places to enjoy each other's company.</p><p>I put the smut here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Tale of Crowns and Coins [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Their Love and the World</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenner/gifts">tenner</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>CW: Sex, so much sex, I mean--these two reeeeeally like each other, brief mention of Sandalphon, IB is at the very end, Anathema and Newt are mentioned but not seen</p><p>If I missed anything in the tags or the description, let me know.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hirosaki Park, Aomori Prefecture, Japan -- 20 April, 2019</p><hr/><p>It seemed as if the light itself were pink. The air swirled with blossoms and the whole place smelled delightfully of petals and fried food.</p><p>Eight months prior, Crowley and Aziraphale had toasted the world, and they were making the most of their retirement. They’d decided to attend the Cherry Blossom Festival in Japan--not in Tokyo, no. Too many people, there. But Aziraphale had heard good things about Hirosaki Castle. According to a number of reputable travel websites, it was voted to have the best food anywhere.</p><p>Crowley joked that the food blogs made the decision, but that wasn’t quite true. Aziraphale thought that Hirosaki Park was lovely, and it seemed more intimate than Tokyo. Also, he’d discovered that their rice wine was some of the finest in the country.</p><p>Besides which, there were some lovely churches there that he’d wanted to see, and Japan seemed safe.</p><p>He knew...basically...what Heaven closely observed. He’d mentioned to Crowley that he’d always assumed that St. James Park was safe because he’d never heard of anyone keeping too close an eye on England. And he had proof of that.</p><p>Crowley had to hotfoot it in a few places, but technically, ALL of England was consecrated ground, according to the Church of England. Since Crowley could actually slither about without being burnt into a snake sausage, the angels must not have been keeping very close eye.</p><p>Japan was safe. It must be. The nature of Shinto invested EVERYTHING with reverence. Their infernal and ethereal natures would blend right in. And, even in an area that Christian missionaries attempted to penetrate, Aziraphale doubted they would be watched or followed.</p><p>They’d mostly restricted their sightseeing to places that the religion of Elohim had not penetrated. Pow-wows in the US and Canada, Chinese New Year’s festivities, Neopagan rites (while safely masked) around some old druid Standing Stones.</p><p>(Of course, if anybody was paying attention, they could be traced through their miracles. Aziraphale was no longer shy about using them. There had been a conversation, early on, about how he tended to use them as instinctively as breathing.)</p><p>For Halloween, they’d gone to Italy, to a masked ball, and danced quite elegantly. Crowley taught him to waltz, and Aziraphale thought it was the second most delightful thing that they could do in each other’s arms.</p><p>Crowley was lovely in his floor-length gown--a black satin brocade so dark that it seemed to absorb the light. It was patterned, very subtly in snakeskin. It whispered over the marble as they danced. Crowley was ravishing as the feathered serpent. Aziraphale thought his own costume--a white-winged angel--was striking against Crowley’s darkness.</p><p>They’d had a marvelous time, dancing and drinking. Eating a bit, quite a bit, and retiring after the unmasking.</p><p>The bedroom that they’d rented was delicious. A huge canopied bed in black and white, with an entire wall of mirrors. They’d started out pressed against that cold glass, watching each other’s eyes in the cool, blue light of dawn. Aziraphale pressed against Crowley’s back, fondling him to his first climax of the evening as they fed on each other’s mouths. Still wobbly from the booze and the passion, Crowley had slipped down in front of Aziraphale, taking him in his mouth. Aziraphale braced himself against the mirror, watching Crowley and mirror-Crowley.</p><p>Crowley was radiant, positively glowing. Aziraphale thought that if the stars winked out of the night sky, God would place Crowley there to take their place. Galaxies were born, lived, and died in his golden eyes.</p><p>His pleasure came upon him quickly, as he had very little staying power when it came to Crowley's mouth. Aziraphale cried out for his beloved as the wave of sensation took him. As Crowley's mouth drew out every drop.</p><p>When they finally tumbled into the bed, Crowley still had the energy to struggle.</p><p>Bless him.</p><p>A few strips of silk took care of that, and Aziraphale lingered between Crowley’s legs, tonguing the full, luscious lips that he’d made for the occasion. He remembered how he’d lingered, keeping Crowley on the edge, drinking every little gasp and moan with the nectar of his beloved. How he’d left Crowley weak and breathless, panting and begging for release. How lovely Crowley looked as Aziraphale knelt over him, nudging at the place his lips and fingers had vacated, Crowley’s soft pleas for his cock. And the joy of burying himself deep inside of Crowley’s beautiful heat, of swirling his thumb over Crowley’s most sensitive part until the poor boy passed out.</p><p>He woke up to come. He always did.</p><p>Crowley fell into a bitter mood when Aziraphale decorated the bookshop for the Christmas holidays. Of course, they still lived above it. Crowley’s flat turned out to be a pocket of space-time abnormality attached to the door. A realm of his own, as it were. He’d brought it over, and stuck it to an empty wall at Aziraphale's place.</p><p>Aziraphale couldn’t let go of the bookstore. So, he’d simply hired a manager. There was only one computer in the building, and Newt didn’t touch it.</p><p>Anathema seemed to enjoy London. Lots of occult and weird types about.</p><p>Certainly, with her money, Newt didn’t need to work. But idling was bad for a man like him. Besides, within his first two weeks, Newt had sorted the books and sales were brisk.</p><p>Newt and Anathema went to estate sales and library sales to stock the inventory, and Aziraphale paid them for any unique or rare books that they managed to acquire. They lived in a spacious flat that just began to...exist...between the bookshop and Aziraphale’s rooms.</p><p>If anyone in Soho noticed that A.Z. Fell’s had gained a story, they (wisely) stayed silent on the matter.</p><p>But when the Christmas decorations went up, Crowley’s mood turned black as his scales. Aziraphale was quick to figure out the problem, and made a reservation using his new computer.</p><p>The tickets arrived shortly after, and Aziraphale got take-out from Crowley’s favorite restaurant. It was a small family diner that made the best egg salad sandwiches that Aziraphale ever had.</p><p>He’d left a note for Crowley. “Primary location. 14:00.”</p><p>Aziraphale wondered if Crowley would recognize him.</p><p>The weather was positively temperate. The winters in London had grown more temperate over the years, and this was a lovely, sunny day. More like springtime than winter, to be honest.</p><p>He felt Crowley before he saw him. Something infernal approached from behind, and stopped. Hands shoved in his pockets, Crowley made his way around the bench, shooting sideways glances at Aziraphale, until...</p><p>The moment of realization was sunlight breaking through the clouds.</p><p>“Hello, dear,” Aziraphale said, primly. He’d changed his vocal cords, but not dramatically.</p><p>“Angel! You...uh...pretty...”</p><p>“Thank you, Crowley. Sit.”</p><p>He did.</p><p>“So, uh. What’s this?” Crowley asked, gesturing at Aziraphale.</p><p>“I have a gift for you,” Aziraphale said.</p><p>He handed Crowley an envelope. Crowley opened it, and then the card inside. He read it.</p><p>“Disneyworld?” he asked. “Christmas in Disney? With Warlock?”</p><p>“Certainly, my dear,” Aziraphale said, reaching over and squeezing Crowley’s knee. “I remember what you said about the place. That Hell doesn’t meddle with it. You’d said that it was a neutral ground.”</p><p>“This is your disguise, then?”</p><p>“I couldn’t exactly go as Brother Francis,” Aziraphale explained. “The Dowlings are progressive. I don’t think that they’d mind Warlock spending some time with Nanny Ashtoreth and her girlfriend.”</p><p>“You...you are a miracle worker!”</p><p>“You miss our boy, and...well, I have some concerns about him spending the holiday with his family.” Aziraphale’s shoulders hunched, slightly. He frowned. “He was able to go on that school trip for last holiday. He had a great time in Rome.”</p><p>“He did.”</p><p>“But Christmas? With Harriet’s drinking and Thad’s...well...absence...” Aziraphale straightened himself. “I thought you might be fretting. For GOOD reason. So...how about Disney? It’s a neutral location, isn’t it?”</p><p>“It is. It’s brilliant! I can convince the Dowlings, I know it!”</p><p>Crowley was smiling and the stars in his eyes blazed brighter than the sun. Aziraphale pressed a kiss on his lips, something they never chanced in public. Not out of fear of each other’s former employers, but more out of the fear that they’d end up discorporated by a couple of laddie boys who didn’t like two men kissing.</p><p>Crowley was surprised, but cooperative.</p><p>“Did...uh...did you...change everything?” he asked, flushed from the kiss.</p><p>“Of course, I did. I thought we could enjoy this lovely weather. Have a picnic, maybe?” He touched the wicker basket that his ample handbag sat on top of. “Afterwards, we might retire to the flat so that you could...become better acquainted with the new parts.”</p><p>“We’ve never...you’ve never...”</p><p>“No, I haven’t. I’d like that to change. Very much, would I like that to change.”</p><p>“Can we skip the picnic?” Crowley asked. His voice nearly cracked, and Aziraphale slipped his fingers up to gently brush the swelling in Crowley’s very tight trousers. “Or take it home with us?”</p><p>Aziraphale was as eager as Crowley.</p><p>Back in his tartan bedroom, Crowley was nude and gorgeous, drinking from the bottle of wine that Aziraphale had brought for the picnic. Aziraphale watched him watch as Aziraphale discarded the camel-colored brushed wool peacoat, the tartan scarf, and began to unbutton the mother-of-pearl buttons on the blouse. Aziraphale draped the shirt over the coat, and unzipped the tartan skirt. It slipped down and he stepped out of it.</p><p>All that remained were the satin brassiere and panties, the garter belt, and the stockings. All white.</p><p>“Did you want to do these?” Aziraphale asked, untying his hair and shaking out his curls. “Or shall I?” He looked over his shoulder at Crowley and winked.</p><p>Crowley was out of the bed and on him quickly. His hands ran over Aziraphale’s skin, touching the curve of his waist, the fullness of his hips, reaching up and cupping the swell of his breasts.</p><p>It felt good. Crowley’s hands on him always felt good, but Aziraphale had followed his healer teachings to the letter. So the transformation of his corporation was perfect, including the enhanced senses that a woman would have. Crowley’s hands were finding all the right spots, and he seemed in no hurry to undress Aziraphale the rest of the way.</p><p>“Delicious, my dear,” Aziraphale said.</p><p>“Mmm...” Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck, in the flesh of his shoulder. He ran his fingers over Aziraphale’s breasts again, pausing to fondle a nipple through the satin.</p><p>The brassiere began to feel tight, uncomfortable. Restrictive and unnecessary.</p><p>Crowley must have sensed that, because he unhooked the blasted thing and eased it off of Aziraphale. He gathered Aziraphale’s breasts in his hands, and began to squeeze them, to touch and explore.</p><p>Aziraphale dropped his head back on Crowley’s shoulder. It felt good. So good.</p><p>And Crowley’s hand slipped into Aziraphale’s satin panties. He found what he was looking for, and slipped his fingers between the lips, and over the tingling flesh of Aziraphale’s wet, ready Effort.</p><p>Slim as he was, Crowley was strong enough to support Aziraphale. A good thing too, as his clever fingers were rapidly driving Aziraphale to the edge. He moaned in Crowley’s ear as he felt himself rise. He’d done this to Crowley, many times. But they’d never traded places.</p><p>Crowley’s mouth found his, and his tongue slipped in Azriaphale’s mouth as his long, slim fingers slid inside. Aziraphale gasped, but Crowley only deepened the kiss. His fingers probed and explored, and his tongue did the same.</p><p>The demon withdrew his fingers from Aziraphale, brought them to his tongue and licked them clean.</p><p>“I dunno how to go about the bottoms...I just use miracles to do up my own, and to undo them.” Crowley shrugged.</p><p>Aziraphale smiled and the rest of his clothes disappeared from his skin and reappeared in the pile on his chair.</p><p>Crowley led him to the bed.</p><p>“How do you want me?” Aziraphale asked.</p><p>“Every damned way, angel,” Crowley replied.</p><p>Aziraphale flushed, in spite of himself. “First course, then?”</p><p>Crowley had him kneel up, hands on the beautiful headboard. Crowley’s eyes peeped up at him from beneath. As his hands wrapped around Aziraphale’s thighs and pulled him down. Crowley’s tongue touched Aziraphale, and it felt like the first shimmering note of a symphony.</p><p>Aziraphale did not take long, with Crowley’s talented tongue urging him forward, up, and over. He came, crying out for his demon.</p><p>Crowley was kinder to Aziraphale than Aziraphale had been to him. He slipped out from beneath Aziraphale, and knelt up behind him. He held him gently, but did not disentangle him from the headboard. Once Aziraphale’s ragged breathing had evened out, he began to fondle Aziraphale’s breasts. To run his fingers over the swell, to tease the nipples. He ran his hands over Aziraphale’s ass, and when Aziraphale lifted for him, Crowley parted his lips with a finger. Then another, sliding in and out. Stretching him.</p><p>It felt good, so good. It wouldn’t push him over the edge, to white-light pleasure and the star-sparkling aftermath. But it was good.</p><p>“More...” Aziraphale murmured. “Please Crowley. Dear boy, I need more.”</p><p>Crowley kissed him on the back of the neck as he withdrew his fingers, and gently, oh so gently, pressed his cock inside.</p><p>Aziraphale gasped as their hips met.</p><p>“Alright, angel?” Crowley asked.</p><p>Aziraphale found his lips and let his kisses be his answer. Crowley’s fingers circled Aziraphale’s fat, desperate clit.</p><p>He moved slowly, carefully. Sliding nearly out of Aziraphale, and then slipping back inside. Aziraphale cried out as Crowley’s fingers danced over his flesh.</p><p>“More, dear boy, more!”</p><p>Crowley had been inside of him before. But it did not feel like this. If anything, Aziraphale was more ravenous in this form. Crowley was up to the task, but it took hours to satisfy him.</p><p>Afterwards, the next day, they paid a visit to the Dowlings. A few infernal miracles later, they left with Warlock, who was very happy to see Nanny Ashtoreth. He was also delighted to meet Nanny’s girlfriend, Zira.</p><p>They traveled by miracle, but Warlock would only remember sleeping through the plane trip.</p><p>Disneyworld was delightful. They had a wonderful time, in a beautiful penthouse suite. Warlock slept at night, and Nanny and Zira spent time together, getting acquainted with all the things that Zira’s body could feel and do.</p><p>“I want this. Forever,” Crowley murmured, after Aziraphale had spent them both.</p><p>“Disney holidays with our boy?”</p><p>“Yesss...”</p><p>“Maybe...maybe...” Aziraphale said. “Maybe. I'd meant to bring this up earlier, but...we ended up in bed that first time." He paused. "Do you think that by the time Warlock is an old man...maybe you can be on good terms with Hell again? Or at least Prince Beelzebub?”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Couldn’t you fetch Warlock’s soul?”</p><p>“I s’pose...”</p><p>“I can...do a thing. I haven’t actually, but it should be possible.” Aziraphale ran his hands over Crowley’s flat belly. He kissed his neck. “If you want to carry him...bear him. If you want us to raise him...”</p><p>“You can, what, put him in me?”</p><p>“Yes. His soul. The flesh would be different, though,” Aziraphale explained. “The flesh...would be nephilim. Would be us.”</p><p>“Could we? You'd...have a child with me?”</p><p>“Yes. Of course.” Aziraphale smiled against Crowley’s flesh. “He’d be ours, then.”</p><p>“What if he goes to Heaven?”</p><p>Aziraphale deflated. “He won’t,” he said resolutely.</p><p>“If he does?”</p><p>“Lost to us, I’m afraid. Until we figure out how to steal him from Heaven.”</p><p>"You would. You'd steal him from Heaven." He felt Crowley shudder and start to sob. “I love you,” he said.</p><p>“I love you, too,” Aziraphale said. “He’s ours, and we’ll keep it that way.”</p><p>The rest of the Disney trip was happy and lovely. Nanny Ashtoreth (now doing translating work, Nanny had explained to Warlock) positively beamed at everything they saw and everything that Warlock did. Warlock was happy to be with them, and learned to love his Auntie Zira--whom he declared to be like a “saltier Father Francis.”</p><p>He was truly a wonder of a boy, and they would have to plan something special for his summer holiday. Eton was offering a trip to Nice, France for spring holiday, and Warlock was signed up.</p><p>Their next big trip was Mardi Gras. They started planning in January.</p><p>Crowley suggested New Orleans. Aziraphale had mentioned that Sandalphon was known to hog the observation deck at Mardi Gras time, spying on New Orleans, the rotten lecher.</p><p>Crowley had visibly paled at that bit of information. So, they’d ended up at Carnivale in France, well away from Sandalphon’s gaze.</p><p>Masked, of course.</p><p>Aziraphale’s French had improved since the Terror. Carnivale was delightful! The weather was perfect. The parades were boisterous, and the food was amazing. Afterwards, in a cozy little room of overstuffed furniture, on a down mattress, between two framed wood carvings of mallards and ducks, he’d driven into Crowley at a pace motivated more by wine than sensibility. When he’d slaked his lust and sated Crowley, he’d fallen asleep with his dear boy in his arms.</p><p>They’d toasted the world, and now they were seeing it. Together. Every delicious place.</p><p>Now, they were in Japan, watching the trees as they seasoned the air, the ground, and the water with falling blossoms.</p><p>Crowley, however, had been distracted by something since they’d left the food pavilion. Since just after they’d bought popcorn. Aziraphale was eating from his big brown bag--made from Aomori’s famous sweet corn. His was caramel. Crowley had gotten the apple-spice.</p><p>“What are you looking at?” Aziraphale asked.</p><p>“That...geisha...and her bodyguard...”</p><p>Aziraphale flicked his eye over the <em>kimono</em>, which appeared black, but was actually a very deep blue. The patterning was subtle, but Aziraphale could see that it was floral, picked out in a slightly lighter blue. The <em>obi</em> was silver brocade, very expensive. She held a giant spun sugar sculpture of a butterfly, which her very large companion kept sneaking bites of as she pointed out different sites.</p><p>While the girl might’ve passed as half-Japanese to someone who did not recognize her, the man that she traveled with was enormous and obviously American. He wore a traditional men’s <em>kimono</em>, sunglasses, and carried a large paper parasol that matched the girl’s clothes.</p><p>If one didn’t know what he was looking for, he might’ve assumed that the white birds on the man’s cerulean <em>kimono</em> were cranes.</p><p>But Aziraphale did know what he was looking for. Those were swans.</p><p>And since he knew what he was looking for, and who he was looking at, Aziraphale reached out. He could feel. He could feel the man, at least.</p><p>Love. He felt love. Deep and dark as a cavern. It threatened to consume the man, the woman who stood too far away from him for it to be reciprocated, and the whole world.</p><p>“That’s not a geisha,” Aziraphale said softly.</p><p>“No...probably a J-Pop star on vacay...I’m trying to figure out which one.”</p><p>“The man that’s with her,” Aziraphale continued softly. “That’s Gabriel...so, I’d hazard a guess that the ‘geisha’--who’s actually dressed as a Maiko, by the way--I’d guess that’s Lord Beelzebub.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For Tenner, thanks for the support!</p><p>Just kind of headcannon, but Disney would be neutral ground because the angels really like it, but can't get any traction there. The demons appreciate it for the level of idol worship that exists there, and also for the raw pathos of a thousand family vacations going wrong at once. So, as both see value in the House of Mouse, but neither can really take ownership, Disney is neutral.</p><p>My GF has been many times (I've never been to a theme park, eep!) and she says that Disneyland and Disneyworld are both...devoid...of any spiritual essence at all. Just kind of a blank. Like Las Vegas.</p><p>So, Crowley and Aziraphale can go to Disney as neither Heaven nor Hell is watching it.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://www.japan-talk.com/jt/new/maiko">Geisha vs. Maiko</a></p><p> </p><p>Yes, a dark kimono is NOT standard for sakura festival, but some J-Pop people have been purposefully turning tradition on its ear in Japan, so...both Aziraphale and Crowley are accurate in their observations.</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="http://www.hirosakipark.jp/en/">Hirosaki Park</a></p><p> </p><p>Absolutely no significance to the date (4/20), except that it's the first day of the cherry blossom festival.</p><p>Aomori Province is one of the few with historically relevant Christian churches. It was such a perfect location.</p><p>I'm approaching 50k words. My GF is gonna laugh at me. </p><p>(Again, she's very supportive.)</p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/series/1684990">If you want alerts for updates, you can subscribe to the series!</a></p><p> </p><p>Hot? Not so hot? Write me a comment! They warm my black little heart!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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